


Five Times Prowl Didn't Sleep After Becoming Part of Destructor, Except One Time He Did

by Red Dragon (Red_Dragonn)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: 5 Times, Gen, Literal Sleeping Together, Sleep, There is no sex in this fic, and also scared of decepticons but in a very angry way, mostly because he's Prowl and also traumatized, prowl doesn't want to sleep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:20:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15586875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Dragonn/pseuds/Red%20Dragon
Summary: this was supposed to be a five times - one time thing, but i didn't feel like writing five individual arguments about prowl not sleeping, so instead it's five altogether and prowl falls asleep in the last one. enjoy





	Five Times Prowl Didn't Sleep After Becoming Part of Destructor, Except One Time He Did

Prowl shot the green and purple pile of mechs in the corner a cursory glance. _93% likely that they’re all asleep by now._

He didn't need his tactical computer to tell him that, though. By now, they were an ever-present pressure inside Prowl's head, five individual enemy mechs who could see inside him at any time. Who he could never get away from. Who he could never escape.

It was almost too much to bear, but Prowl had always had to bear whatever he could without breaking. He could handle five Constructicons. 

He could feel them sleeping, now. Almost peaceful, in a way. Prowl was desperately in need of recharge himself, but he couldn't afford to go to sleep. 

Not while he wasn't safe.

Not while he wasn't alone. 

_I'll never be alone again._

And so he didn't sleep. He stayed up staring at a screen blankly without reading it, feeling the five sleeping mechs in his head trying to drag him into vulnerability. 

The next day, the Constructicons woke up, and extricated themselves from the twisted pile of limbs and bodies they’d been comfortably sleeping in, and then Mixmaster came over and smacked Prowl on the back hard enough that he almost fell over. "Had a nice night, huh, Prowl?"

"Morning, prowl," said another. 

"What's good, my mech?" said a third. 

Prowl forced the drowsiness out of his face and voice, slapping Mixmaster's hand away. "Don't touch me."

_I'll never be alone again._

* * *

Prowl rubbed at his optics and tried to ignore the little skittering sparks crawling across his vision every time he had to readjust where he was looking at.

_24% power. Recommended: defrag. Recommended: recharge._

Prowl ignored his computer.

In the back of his mind, where he was getting better at shutting it out, he could feel two of the Constructicons having an argument. He refused to acknowlege which ones it was. He was busy.

He was busy doing _nothing,_ but he was _busy_ with that, thank you.

“Hey, Prowl!” said a _fragging_ decepticon who happened to also be in Prowl’s _fragging_ head. “My mech, you good?”

Prowl studiously ignored him.

“Prowl, man,” said the Constructicon, who Prowl was _not_ going to call Hook even if he knew that was the designation that belonged to the hulking green and purple Con in front of him. “For real, are you doing alright?”

Prowl continued to pretend that there was no Constructicon talking to him. Inside his head, he could feel the Con’s suspicion slowly start to turn into something that felt closer to...concern?

_“Hey,”_ the Construction said sharply, grabbing Prowl’s shoulder and forcing him to turn around and meet his gaze. “I asked you a _question_ , Prowler.”

“I’m fine,” Prowl snapped.

“You seem tired,” the Constructicon said.

“I am _fine_ ,” Prowl insisted. “Leave me alone.”

The Constructicon patted him on the shoulder and turned to leave. “Make sure you get enough recharge, alright? Hard to stay functional without it. Come on, we’re all going to sleep. Might as well join us.”

Prowl scowled at his retreating back, and did not move to follow. He wouldn’t sleep. It wasn’t safe. He wasn’t _alone_.

He just couldn’t afford to.

 

* * *

“Hey,” Hook said, cornering Prowl in a section of the room that was just a bit removed from the others. “You _know_ I know you’re not sleeping, don’t you?”

“Back up,” Prowl said, pushing the Construction back. On low power, his customary brusque actions had a lot less power behind them; the Construction pushed him right back, and he smacked into a wall.

“You need to _recharge_ ,” Hook said darkly. “You think this isn’t going to catch up to you in the end?”

“I’m not fragging recharging with you five in the room,” Prowl snapped.

“You’re not fragging recharging at _all,”_ Hook said back. “You’re stuck with us now. Get used to it.”

Prowl stepped forwards, intending to try and push past the Constructicon again, but instead his vision blacked out for a moment and when he came to he was sprawled on the ground at Hook’s feet.

“I told you,” Hook said snidely. “Recharge, Prowl.”

Prowl elected to ignore the fact that he could feel how concerned the Decepticon was in the back of his head. Hook didn’t _care_ about Prowl. It had to be faked somehow.

He would be fine. He just needed to figure out a way to get free of them. Then he’d be alone. Then he could recharge.

* * *

 

Prowl chugged a cube of energon and pretended he wasn’t tired. He hadn’t recharged in at least a week...if not more. Time was starting to bleed into itself, and he knew it was unacceptible but he couldn’t afford to sleep. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone. He wasn’t alone.

“Need me to top you up?” Hook offered. Prowl pulled his cube closer.

“No.”

They were scheming something. He could feel it in his head. Right along with a growing sense of what felt like it might have been genuine concern, if Prowl didn’t know any better. He wasn’t taking anything from them. He couldn't trust it.

“Prowl—”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Prowl snapped. “Leave me alone.”

Mixmaster muttered something to Scavenger. Bonecrusher sighed.

“Look, we’re just—”

“I don't care.”

“Trying to help,” Hook finished lamely. “You’re worrying us, mech.”

Prowl glared at him. “I. Am. _Fine.”_

“You haven't been recharging properly.”

“I’ve been recharging perfectly fine.”

Hook shot a helpess look at the other Constructicons. “We all know that’s not _true,_ Prowl.”

Prowl turned back to the table, only to see his energon cube filled. He gave Hook a suspicious look, holding it out. “ _You_ drink it.”

“We’re not trying to do anything to you,” Hook sighed, bit he didn’t drink the cube. So Prowl was right.

* * *

“For the _last time_ ,” Prowl snapped. “I’m _perfectly fine.”_

“You haven't recharged in days,” Scavenger pointed out.

“You don't know that.”

“Uh... yes, we do, actually,” said Mixmaster. “We’re in your head, mech.”

Oh. Right. That. Like Prowl could forget.

“Listen, we’re just trying to look out for you,” Hook said. “You’re one of us now.”

Prowl tried not to tack an _‘unfortunately’_ onto the end of that, and he must have been more out of it than he thought he was, because all five of the mechs in the room gave him identical hurt looks that resonated in the back of Prowl’s processor.

“Come _on_ , mech, that’s not fair,” Bonecrusher said. “Bombshell was the one who made you join us.”

Prowl glared at him, a red-hot wire of fury unspooling rapidly in his chest. And then something in his head gave up at that, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor, looking up into five sets of startled red optics. “Prowl?”

“Uh,” Prowl said, except it wasn’t a word because apparently his vocalizer utterly refused to function, and the Constructicons traded looks over the table.

“Hey, hang on,” Bonecrusher said, bending down. “Come here.”

Prowl tried to move out of the Constructicon’s reach and instead just managed to sort of squirm weakly on the floor. “Don’t touch me,” he tried to snap, but he couldn’t, because his voice wasn’t working.

Bonecrusher easily picked him up.

Prowl tried not to look as angry (as afraid) as he felt. He was helpless. These were his enemies. This was a nightmare scenario.

“Guys,” Mixmaster said, and gestured down the hall.

“I _know_ ,” Bonecrusher said, and all five of them started off down the corridor towards what Prowl recognized through half-focused optics as the berthroom. Slag, slag, slag, slag—

But Bonecrusher just, surprisingly gently, laid Prowl out on the floor, and then the five other Constructicons laid down so that they were pressed up against one another and with him pressed beneath them, and it—

It was terrifying. They were his enemies. They were dangerous, and and and, and they were Decepticons, and they hurt people, and—

And they were _in Prowl’s head_ , feeling incredibly benign, and it was really rather warm in the middle of the pile, and surprisngly comfortable, honestly, and Prowl found himself relaxing and drifting off into recharge more easily than he’d ever done before in his life.

Maybe he didn’t have to be alone any more.


End file.
